The Hills Are Not Silent

The hills are not silent
They do not sit mute
High up on the ridges
Wind whispers secrets
Of the ages to the pines.
Water babbles as is wanders
Slow at first downhill
Then sings a bubbling song
Finally shouting for joy
As it drops from waterfalls
To crisp pools below.
Deep within even the ancient
Rocks creak and moan
As they lift the world
On their shoulders.